


Easter Sunday

by Pigzxo



Series: Rovinsky Holidays [3]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Easter, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, also how obvious is it that i've never been to church in my life?, okay so i don't remember what St. Agnes looks like at all i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 18:11:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10645293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigzxo/pseuds/Pigzxo
Summary: Ronan takes Kavinsky to church for the Easter Sunday service.





	Easter Sunday

“For the record, this is a stupid idea.”

            Ronan ignored Kavinsky in favour of knotting his tie. He pulled it tight around Kavinsky’s neck – maybe a little tighter than necessary – and then loosened it slightly. He took a step back to look at his boyfriend dressed in a nice suit, with a nice tie, the bags under his eyes barely noticeable, and the blackness in his eyes alive with something other than drugs for once. He smiled.

            “Don’t look at me like that,” Kavinsky grumbled, but he said it with a hint of pride in his voice. He turned towards the mirror to check his reflection and ran a hand through his gelled-down hair. “I look like I’m in the fucking Godfather.”

            “You’re going to church, not an execution,” Ronan said. He picked up a tie from the bed and threw it around his neck. As he approached the mirror, he pretended not to notice Kavinsky watching him. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

            “I could spontaneously burst into flames.”

            Ronan smirked. “All sinners will be forgiven.”

            “Only if they want to be.”

            Ronan finished putting on his tie and turned to Kavinsky. He focused his best, most even look on his boyfriend, and tried not to let his smile get in the way. Kavinsky looked good cleaned up – it wasn’t Ronan’s fault he couldn’t focus. Ronan said, “This is the Easter service. My family goes to it every year. You’re coming to meet them, to be part of our traditions, to be part of the _family_. Got it?”

            “They cut you off. I don’t get why you even bother with them.”

            “Because I love them.”

            “Like you love me.”

            “You are aware that’s not a good comeback, right?” Ronan quirked an eyebrow. “It doesn’t embarrass me.”

            Kavinsky rolled his eyes and took a step forward. He gripped Ronan’s tie and pulled him closer, until they were eye to eye, nose to nose. “Maybe it should, baby girl,” he whispered. “Maybe there’s things that should make you blush, you little whore.”

            Ronan pressed a chaste kiss to Kavinsky’s lips and then pushed him back. “We’re going to church, remember?”

            “I can think of better things to do.”

            “Let’s confess our sins before we commit more.”

            Kavinsky sat down on the end of the bed and started to play with his tie. Ronan watched him in the mirror, tried to pretend that he wasn’t. The last two months had been hard on him. He’d been released two weeks ago from rehab and ever since he’d been triggered by almost everything in the apartment. Whenever Ronan suggested moving, Kavinsky laughed and asked who would rent to them, where else could they afford to go?

            “I don’t want to go to church,” Kavinsky said, his voice soft and whiny, like a child’s.

            Ronan pursed his lips. He knew Kavinsky didn’t believe in God, hadn’t for a long time. He knew church was one of Kavinsky’s worst memories of his childhood, even though it was the best memory of Ronan’s. He knew dragging Kavinsky anywhere was an exercise in futility. But he also knew that he couldn’t leave Kavinsky alone.

            He turned and put on his best disappointed face. Sometimes dating Kavinsky was more like taking care of a young child and the thought annoyed Ronan. He stepped towards Kavinsky and raised his chin so he’d look at him. “This is important to me,” Ronan said. “This is an important part of my life and I want you to be part of it too. Okay?”

            Kavinsky grabbed his hips and pulled him forward. “There are a few things important to me too.”

            Ronan pushed Kavinsky’s head back, stepped away with a sigh. He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “I can’t keep doing this, K.”

            “Keep doing what?”

            “Doing everything for you,” Ronan snapped. He turned to his boyfriend and caught the incredulous look on his face. “I can’t forget about my family and my friends and my life and my obligations because _you_ can’t function without me. Okay? I know you have zero experience with a healthy relationship, but this isn’t one.”

            Kavinsky pushed out his cheek with his tongue, nodded. He stood. “That’s what you think of me, Lynch? I’m just a fucking charity case to you? The boy you have to teach about normal, good, healthy things?” He shoved Ronan. “That’s what I am to you?”

            Ronan fixed Kavinsky with a glare. “That’s not what I said.”

            “It’s what I heard.”

            “Because you only hear the things you can get angry about. You have two emotions – anger and nothingness. And sometimes I don’t know which one you prefer.”

            “You’re such a fucking asshole.”

            Ronan met Kavinsky’s eyes, tried to calm the rage bubbling in his stomach. “You have two options, K,” he said. “You can come with me to the church and meet my family and for once in your fucking life do something for someone else, or you can stay here and sulk. But if you pick that, don’t expect me to come back.”

            Kavinsky blinked. “You’re gonna take all your stuff with you to church?”

            “Missing the point, as always.”

            Ronan turned to walk away but Kavinsky grabbed his elbow. For a second, neither of them breathed. Ronan didn’t turn but he felt Kavinsky step closer, press up against him. He braced himself for the inevitable – for Kavinsky to hit on him, try to cajole him into staying in bed – and readied himself to walk away, something he knew he wasn’t any good at. What he didn’t expect was what actually happened.

            “I’m sorry,” Kavinsky whispered. He pressed his lips to Ronan’s shoulder. “I’ll come.”

            “You sure?” Ronan felt himself tremble.

            “Yeah.” Kavinsky turned him around and looked him in the eye. The thinnest of smiles lined Kavinsky’s lips, a smile Ronan had never seen on him before. It seemed genuine, unlike every drug-induced one he’d seen before. “You don’t need to take care of me, Lynch. I survived without you before, I’ll do it again.”

            Ronan snorted. “If by ‘survived’ you mean ‘lived in a drug-induced haze’ I’m not convinced.”

            Kavinsky kissed him, hard. “You saved me but they warned me about letting other people save me. They told me not to let it happen. That I had to save myself.” His black eyes shone and sparkled, exploded like nothing Ronan had ever seen before. “I forgot. Time and again, I forgot. Because all I needed was you. But the world’s not like that. And in the end, it wasn’t you that saved me at all. I saved myself.”

            “You sure about that?”

            Kavinsky smirked, kissed him again. “I’ll still give you the credit, if you want it.”

            Ronan shoved him away, unable to help the massive smile on his lips. He nodded. “Okay. You can take care of yourself.”

            “And you can leave me alone every once in a while,” Kavinsky said. When Ronan opened his mouth to protest, he added, “Don’t think I don’t know why you keep getting in the shower with me.”

            Ronan laughed. “Maybe let’s not talk about that on the way to church.”

            “I still think I’ll burst into flames.”

            Ronan grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the bedroom. “Then I’ll burst into flames with you.”

 

Ronan felt the deep breath Kavinsky took tremble through his whole body. He squeezed his hand tighter. Before them, St. Agnes rose up in all its glory. The old stone walls were freshly scrubbed and bright flowers lined the stone path leading to the arched doorway. The doors were held open, people milling about the entrance, talking, laughing, reuniting.

            “Should we be holding hands here?” Kavinsky asked, his voice low.

            Ronan recognized the tone. He pulled Kavinsky closer and kissed him on the cheek. “It’s fine,” he said. “No one cares.”

            Kavinsky nodded but he was stiff from head to toe.

            “Ronan.”

            Ronan turned his head at the voice, going mostly still himself as he saw Declan walking towards him. The feud between him and his brother was legendary but that didn’t mean they didn’t love each other. Ronan managed a thin smile, nodded.

            “Declan,” he said. “This is my boyfriend, Kavinsky.”

            “Kavinsky?” The way Declan drew out the syllables sent a chill through Ronan. He shook his head, almost imperceptively, warning his brother not to say anything about Kavinsky’s family. Declan smiled, slow and cold but kind enough. “Nice to meet you.”

            “Yeah,” Kavinsky said. “You too.”

            A few seconds of awkward silence passed before Matthew ran up to them. His dishevelled golden curls fell over his forehead, into his eyes. His suit was impeccable other than the tie he’d somehow managed to undo on his way from the parking lot. Without a word, Ronan stepped forward and redid the knot.

            “Thanks,” Matthew said. He flashed a brilliant smile and hugged both of his older brothers. “So. Are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

            Ronan almost laughed but stopped himself when he saw the glare in Kavinsky’s eyes. He elbowed him in the ribs; Kavinsky flinched and forced a less disastrous smile.

            Ronan made the introductions. They all stood there in awkward silence breached only by Matthew’s happy chatter for a few minutes and then headed into the church. Kavinsky hesitated just before the doorway and Ronan squeezed his fingers. “You won’t burst into flames,” he whispered. He held Kavinsky’s eyes, tried to look serious and playful at the same time. “You’re not the devil.”

            Kavinsky met his gaze, smirked a little. “You sure about that, Lynch?”

            “Pretty sure.” Ronan pulled him over the threshold. Nothing happened. “Would you look at that.”

            “You could’ve killed me.”

            Ronan snorted and started down the aisle. He slid into the pew next to Matthew and dragged Kavinsky along with him. His brother pulled him into a conversation about school and for a few seconds he was distracted. Right up until Kavinsky’s nails dug into the palm of his hand.

            Ronan looked back at him, frowning. Kavinsky’s eyes were frozen on the stained glass at the front of the church. He didn’t even blink. Ronan felt a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach, wondered exactly how bad Kavinsky’s memories of church were. “K?” he whispered. He shook his arm. “You okay?”

            “Sure.”

            “You can tell me if this is too hard.”

            Kavinsky flashed a cold, cruel smile. “Thought you didn’t want to take care of me.”

            Ronan bit back his sigh, tried not to roll his eyes. “You’re such a—”

            “Ooh, don’t swear in church, Lynch.”

            Ronan snorted his laugh. “I get it. You’re just more comfortable when we’re arguing.”

            “I don’t have to argue with you,” he said. “Anyone would do. Any _thing_ would do. I could argue with this pew, if you prefer?”

            “Better the pew than the pastor.”

            Kavinsky smirked and then, too fast for Ronan to stop him, leaned in and kissed him. He didn’t stop at just a peck, dragged out the kiss even when Ronan refused to open his mouth, and then bit into his bottom lip to pull it out as he moved away. Ronan shook his head at him but couldn’t resist smiling, not when Kavinsky was looking at him like he was the sun, the moon, and the stars.

            “Behave,” Ronan whispered. “We’re in church.”

            “That’s usually my line.”

            Ronan laughed. “Seriously. Church.”

            Declan shushed them both.

            That only made them laugh more.

            They calmed down by the time the service started. Ronan focused on the words washing over him, kept his attention on the prayers and hymns. Every once in a while, Kavinsky’s fidgeting caught his eye, but he did his best to ignore it. Nothing he’d done so far seemed too self-destructive. He picked at his nails, tapped his feet, chewed on his bottom lip. If he started scratching his arms or closed his eyes for too long, then Ronan would worry. Ronan had gotten good at noticing when Kavinsky lost control.

            About halfway through the service, Ronan took Kavinsky’s hand again. He squeezed his fingers hard, hoped the pain would help keep him present. Kavinsky glanced over at him and Ronan almost pulled him out of the church right then and there. His eyes were open, glittering, so far from their normal guardedness or their out of it fog that Ronan could feel the pain emanating from them. He could feel how tough the church was on Kavinsky and how he sat there, listened, just for Ronan’s sake.

            Bursting into flames had never been his real worry. It had always been about this, sitting here, listening.

            “We should go,” Ronan whispered.

            Kavinsky shook his head and Ronan thought maybe, just maybe, he saw tears. “This is important to you,” Kavinsky said. “I want to be here with you.”

            Ronan licked his lips, glanced back at his family. Then he shook his head. “No. Don’t... don’t stay here for me if it’s hurting you. Remember what you said earlier? You have to save yourself?”

            Declan shushed them again and Ronan closed his eyes.

            Kavinsky brushed his thumb down Ronan’s jawbone and Ronan let his eyes flicker open. The smile on Kavinsky’s face was something he’d never seen before, something soft and patient. All Kavinsky’s smiles were really smirks or hidden laughter or cold malice or faked for the occasion. But this smile was something soft, something pure, something almost loving. Ronan felt himself sink into that expression, felt himself put too much meaning into it, but he couldn’t help thinking it meant something more.

            “You’re always here for me,” Kavinsky whispered. “I want to be here for you.”

            “Declan’s not exactly the same as...” Ronan quirked an eyebrow. Several of the nurses told him mentioning drugs by name would trigger Kavinsky and Ronan hadn’t yet found a good way around the topic.

            Kavinsky’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m fine.”

            “Don’t hurt yourself for me.”

            “Don’t lie for me.”

            “What?”

            “I know you need support here.”

            Ronan almost laughed but the sound stuck in his throat and morphed into a soft smile. He wanted more than anything to kiss Kavinsky again but they were in church, in the middle of a service, and he knew better. He settled for squeezing his hand again and turning back towards the front of the room, aware of Kavinsky’s gaze on him the whole time.

            The service wrapped with little incident. They exited fast – not waiting for Declan or Matthew to catch up – and Kavinsky’s breath of relief when he exited the building was audible. Ronan looked over at him, caught his profile against the sharp light of the sun. “Can I ask?” Ronan said.

            “Ask what?” And when Kavinsky looked at him, the cold boy he knew was back. The arch of his eyebrow, the near constant smirk, the deadened black eyes.

            Ronan went for it anyways. “The church. What’s triggering about it?”

            Kavinsky’s smirk twisted into something even crueler as he glanced back at the building. His fingers were twitching, fumbling, looking for cigarettes that weren’t there. With a sigh, he said, “My church wasn’t as... inclusive as yours. I spent years listening to sermons on how everything I wanted, everything I loved, was wrong. And when I got restless, when I skipped out in the middle, when I refused to go, my father would beat me within an inch of my life.”

            Ronan stared at Kavinsky. He had no idea how to reply to that but, luckily, Kavinsky didn’t want a reply, probably would have scoffed at a reply.

            Declan and Matthew met up with them a minute later. “Lunch?” Declan said, as if their answers were a foregone conclusion.

            Ronan glanced at Kavinsky and shook his head. “Nah, we’re heading home. We’ll see you for dinner?”

            Declan nodded as they started to walk away.

 

Ronan waited approximately eight seconds after Kavinsky closed the door to their apartment to kiss him. And he kissed him wildly, with little regard for what he was doing, feeling his smile in every press of their lips.

            “What’s gotten into you?” Kavinsky said, the words half a breathless laugh.

            “I’m so proud of you,” Ronan whispered. “I’m so happy you were there.”

            Kavinsky pushed him off, laughing, trying to look like he was put off by the words. “Try not to be such a girl, Lynch. You know I’m not turned on by that.” He walked past Ronan into the kitchen, but Ronan saw the hint of pink on his cheeks. Kavinsky grabbed a glass off the counter and filled it with water. It took him a second to take a sip.

            “You all right?” Ronan asked.

            “Peachy.” He turned to look at Ronan, the space between them seeming suddenly insurmountable. Ronan wondered what had happened to the open, broken boy he’d seen in the church. He wondered how deep Kavinsky buried that boy, how rarely he let him out. He wondered if maybe he was the only person still alive who had seen him.

            Ronan took a step closer and loosened the tie from his neck. With every step he took, he kept his eyes on Kavinsky, wary. He looked for signs that this was one of those moments when he shouldn’t touch him, one of those times when everything was so much louder for him than it should be. But he didn’t see the signs. Couldn’t see anything. Kavinsky looked like someone had turned him off, thrown him into nothingness all over again.

            When Ronan leaned against the counter next to him, he waited for Kavinsky to meet his eyes. “Thank you,” Ronan said, “for coming.”

            Kavinsky nodded.

            “I love you.”

            Kavinsky’s eyes unfocused, sharpened, and then darted over Ronan’s face like he was looking for a lie. Then, without warning, he pulled Ronan in by his collar and laid a bruising kiss against his lips. Noses still touching, lips close enough that every word brushed them together, Kavinsky whispered, “I love you too.” Then he pushed Ronan away and disappeared into the bedroom.

            Ronan stared after him for a long moment, stunned, those four words still echoing in his ears.

            Then Kavinsky poked his head out from the bedroom and said, “You coming?”


End file.
